Goodnight Kiss
by slashyking
Summary: Pretty self explanitroy by the title and the AN it beholds. JeromeVincent slashie. Enjoy!


A/N: I do not own Vincent and Jerome of GATTACA but I did enjoy watching the film in my Science class over the TAKS week. I was really hoping for some of not any slash, even the teeniest bit. (Sniffle) WHY DID HE KILL HIMSELF!! Sorry, I didn't want him to burn himself to detah, it was too sad to cope with. Well, this is a little snip-it I wrote while watching it. Time: Some night before that one dude was murdered with a keyboard which was AWESOME!! LOL, well, Enjoy my slashie entitled, "Goodnight Kiss." A random night of drunken festivities :)

Goodnight Kiss

"Viiinceeeennntttah!!" Why does he have to be _so loud_, I'm just in the other room. A groan sounded from me as I got up and he cried even louder, "Vinceeeent! I need you!"

"Fine, I'm coming, I'm coming. Did you spill your brandy?" For some reason, I was being really pissy that evening, but that could just be because I was sleeping. Asshole.

Stepping off of the stairs, I saw him wheel over to me with a drunken smile plastered across his unshaved face. Funny, I never thought of him to be the 'giddy drunk' kind of person, he never is on any other occasion.

"Ello, Vincy-Poo! Can you help me get to bed; I don't think I can do it myself. I might fall and get a con-cuuu-concush-ee-on." He struggled with the word as if he were a five year-old reading _The Odyssey_. Even in my rage-filled grogginess, I managed a small chuckle and smirk at my own joke that preceded the action that caused it.

"Ok, I'll help you, but you owe me now. Don't wake me again."

"Oh, I won't, I promise. I'll be a good boy!"

With that, I scooped him up off of his wheelchair bridal style and walked him to his room. He sang and giggled incoherently the entire way there. I laid him down on his bed and tucked him in like the big baby he was being. Grinning, he looked at me as I stood at the door to say goodnight almost motherly, but with an aggravated look and my arms crossed over my bare chest.

"Goodnight, Jerome. Sweet, drunken dreams." I closed the door slowly, but just as I did, he whined once more. I got mad again.

"What?!"

"Can I have a goodnight story?"

"No."

"What about a goodnight glass o' vodka?"

"No!"

There was a short pause in our very short and heated conversation but soon it was followed by his grinning face in the dark room saying, "Well…how about a goodnight kiss?" His words may have been choppy and slurred, but it was heavily caked with sensuality. I was stunned for a moment, never had I predicted this.

"A what? No, no way. Uh-uh. I'm not giving you a-"

"Oh please, oh please, oh pah-leeeeeezah!?!" Now, he may be what I would ever hope to call a friend and my only source of disguise and hiding, but I had never ever forever never been attracted to him. But if it would shut him up…

I walked over to where he lay and leaned over him and kissed him on the cheek, almost fatherly, but with no feeling. He frowned at my lack of interest.

"That wasn't a kiss." His words were laced with hurt and sadness.

I scoffed and kissed him on the lips but tried my hardest to keep it as short and as meaningless as possible, merely a peck. Still, he was not satisfied. So, he suggested, "Just think of me as Irene."

"I don't like Irene." I lied. Just because I didn't want him to know I did.

"So, she is a woman, isn't she? Come on, how can you possibly resist my suave charm?" That man.

"It isn't so much your charm as it is your breath. It is just drowning in the smell of alcohol." He frowned once more.

"I'm sorry darling. Just one, passionate kiss and I will never ask of anything of this sort again." Rolling my eyes, I leaned down over the drunk cripple and kissed him firmly, but softly, on his lips. Before I could pull away, he reached up, grabbed me by the hips and thrust me on top of him. My eyes grew as large as dinner plates, lips still locked with his.

"Jermph!" The name was muffled under the kiss and the person who beheld it used this attempted at speech to slide his vodka-soaked tongue in my mouth for some exploration. Despite my feeble tries at freedom, I somewhat enjoyed this, the rush, the moment, even if he wasn't a woman, it was still pretty damn arousing. Pulling away slowly, he giggled and slipped his hand around to my back, his fingers playing with the hem of my pajama bottoms. I whizzed out.

"Okay, you had your fun, and that was enough for anybody. Goodnight!" I had to keep my enjoyment tucked deep inside my mind for later mid-day daydreaming, and left in a hurry. Not leaving the slightest trace, as I did with everything nowadays, for him to notice the growing hardon concealed in those pajama bottoms of mine.


End file.
